


Teenage Wasteland

by princessofpower



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: AU where the boys live at a home for troubled teens, Angst, Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nathan is their neighbour, will add more tags as i add chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-09-27 19:04:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20412787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessofpower/pseuds/princessofpower
Summary: Pickles' parents decide he is a danger to his brother and have Pickles put into a home for at-risk youth. Here, he meets William Murderface and Toki Wartooth, who have their own baggage. (Skwisgaar and Nathan show up eventually)





	1. A Danger To Yourself and Others

Pickles was at a loss. Things at home had been getting worse and worse, but he never expected his parents to do something this drastic. He idly picked at a loose bit of rubber on the bottom of his shoe, replaying last nights conversation in his head.

"Pickles, you are a danger to your brother! Are you listening to me?" his mother's shrill voice echoed through his brain. Of course he was listening. It was impossible not to. A danger to _Seth_? What a joke! He'd only been trying to defend himself. He would be perfectly happy to never even speak to him, but Seth just couldn't leave him alone. He did wonder why his brother needed so much attention at all times, but he also didn't exactly care. The slimy leech _always_ managed to convince their parents he was the victim. That Pickles was some kind of lunatic or something.... What was he supposed to do!? Just sit there and take it?

He groaned, looking out the window. Bland houses and trees passing by, all seeming to repeat themselves. His parents had actually called the narcs to come and take him away. To a "safe house". Please, he knew what that meant. Locked up, like he was some kind of criminal! Well, he supposed he was.... Technically... Underage drinking, buying drugs, that kind of stuff. But to be practically arrested just for fighting back against his own brother? Now that was an injustice he still struggled to understand.

"We're afraid you're gonna hurt someone. We're afraid you're gonna hurt yourself." His mother's voice penetrated his thoughts once again.

He glanced up at the drivers seat. The narc hadn't said a thing the entire drive. Not that Pickles exactly _wanted_ him to....But still, It was creepy... He was like a robot. He just swooped in, taking Pickles from point A to point B. Doing his job. With no attachment to the situation at all, it seemed.

He pulled his feet up onto the seat. He was getting car-sick. In fact, he was still hung over from the night before. Pickles hadn't experienced a hang over in at least the last year. He would prevent them by starting to drink again as soon as he could. But not today. Certainly not in some stupid safe house. All locked up like an animal... He combed his fingers though his hair, trying to push away the thought of going without booze.

He wondered instead, who he'd be living with. Probably some freaky kids in gangs or some shit. There had to be something wrong with whoever it'd be if they were in this situation. Would he be allowed to defend himself? After all, that's how he got here in the first place.

"You alright back there?"

The sudden voice made him jump a little. "I'm fine...." Pickles mumbled. What, like he was gonna tell this suit-robot anything?

When they finally did arrive, it looked like any other unassuming, boring suburban house. Plopped right in the middle of an upper-class looking neighbourhood. He was sure these crusty-ass people just loved having a place like _this_ right here. Pickles grabbed his backpack, stuffed with the few belongings he'd been able to fit. 

The chain-link gate was shut with a padlock the man had to use a key on. The guy had assured him back at his parents' that he was being locked in for his own safety but he knew he was being locked up, far away, to protect precious little Seth. That stupid asshole would sure be bored without him around to torment...

They were greeted at the door by a woman. She looked friendly enough, hot even. But he couldn't really bring himself to care. She was saying something to him, but he couldn't pay attention. His eyes wandered across the interior of the house. Trying to take everything in. It was just as ordinary as the outside. The front entrance lead directly to the living room. It had a couch and a TV, decorated with some hippie-type cloths hung up on the wall. Red and white tie-dye with elephant silhouettes.

Without so much as a doorway, the living room bled into the kitchen. Classic black and white checkered floor with a round, wooden table. Sat at this table were two kids, maybe a little younger than himself. Thirteen or fourteen he'd guess. His fears about who he'd be living with were quickly squashed, as he was sure he could easily take both of them down if he ever needed to.

Next to that was a door that didn't exactly fit in. It looked like it belonged in a school more than a house. Whatever room it lead to, had it's windows all completely blocked off with curtains.

"Charles and I just have to fill a few things out," the woman announced. "Boys, why don't you make Pickles feel at home?" and with that the two adults disappeared behind the school door. The sound of the lock quickly following.

One of the boys giggled. "His name ams _Pickle_!"

Pickles had never heard an accent like that before in his life. 

"Pickle. Whys your parents be naminks yous dat?"

Pickles didn't say anything.

"Well?" the other one demanded. 

"Sorry, I uhh... I can't really... Understand what he's saying..."

"Opens your fuckings ears den... Not being my faults."

"Okay, okay..." he defended, taking a few steps towards the two. "Where are you from anyways?"

"Norways."

"What're you doing here?"

"Mine parents ams missionaries."

"They're what?"

The other boy rolled his eyes. "He said his parents came here as missionaries."

"Sorry..."

"Ehh, you'll get used to it."

He wasn't sure he would. Even with the other kids prominent lisp, he could understand him. Pickles had never really been exposed to people from other parts of the world. 

"Wells Pickle, my name ams Toki."

"Toki. Heh, I like that." The compliment seemed to make the kid happy, so he decided to pull up a chair.

"He bes Williams Murderface."

Pickles nodded. They seemed normal enough... Even with a name with 'murder' right in it. Although Toki was rather thin. His skin seemed to cling tight to his bones in a way he'd never seen on somebody before. Looking them both over, he then noticed they were both covered in scars. Toki a lot more so than Murderface. He wondered if it was a sign he should be worried. Not that he wanted to ask about it.

"Have you guys been in here long?"

Toki shook his head, but Murderface nodded.

"Only _my whole life_," he scoffed.

"Why?"

"My parents are dead. I don't have no other family so I got stuck here. Toki got taken away from his psycho parents last year."

"Why?" he asked again.

"I ams evil," Toki answered plainly. "Gots a demon in mes."

"Shut up! I keep telling you those whackos have no clue what they're even talkin' about!"

"Your parents told you that?"

"Theys can tells."

Pickles frowned. The kid seemed so sweet. He couldn't imagine how anyone could bring themselves to convince him of something like that.

"Ehh... Parents aint as smart as they like to pretend. Don't take it to heart..."

"Yous guys don't understand..." Toki answered quietly. 

Well, Pickles wasn't going to argue any further. These two obviously had problems and he'd learned it was best to keep distant from those kinds of things. 

"Sorry Pickles, Toki is kinda fucked in the head, you know?"

"Shuts up, Murderface! Yous fucks in the heads!"

"Ugh..." Pickles groaned, putting his head in his hands. Fucking hangover. "Could you guys shut up?"

"What the hell's wrong with you? You coming down off something?"

"Fucking kind of! I'm gonna get a glass of water."

"Nope. Cants. Fridge ams locked up."

"I'll drink it from the tap then."

"Nope. Glasses ams locked."

"_Why_?" he glared at the little foreign kid as if it were his fault.

"Ifs they be thinkin we cans hurt ourselves with it, gots to be locked ups."

"Oh my God, this place is a fucking prison!"

Murderface laughed like Pickles' little outburst was the funniest thing in the world. The longer he stayed here the more everything, including these two kids, were getting under his skin.

It was only made worse at the end of the day when he found out he wouldn't even get his own room. His neves felt like they were about to break. No privacy, ever... At least he wasn't sharing with Murderface. Toki was slightly more tolerable. He dumped his bag down on the little single bed, on the opposite wall of Toki's matching one.

"Come ons, Pickle. Tooth brush!" Toki waved said item in the air. "Tooth brush time."

"I'll pass."

Toki shrugged, leaving for the bathroom himself. Finally. He'd been waiting all day. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out something he'd managed to smuggle in. A bottle of beer. It was cheap, not to mention warm, but he didn't give a fuck about either of those facts at the moment. Booze was booze. He twisted off the cap and chugged it down. Wiping his mouth and re-hiding the bottle, all before Toki had a chance to see. At least he'd be able to sleep now. Well, maybe... That clown doll staring at him from Toki's comforter might make things a little difficult. The red paint on it's nose had chipped away long ago, and one of it's beady little black eyes was rubbed almost entirely off.

When Toki returned Pickles watched as he did some kind of motion with his index finger before crawling into bed.

"What was that all about?"

"Crossin myselfs"

"Why?"

"So thats God will protects me. Not lets the demon hurts me."

"Does it work?"

"Uhh... Don'ts really knows. Mine parents says God, he does not loves me. Won'ts help. Abigails, she says he be lovings everybody. Don'ts know what is truths."

Poor kid. He seemed incapable of thinking for himself. He wondered if rebellion was something that could be taught. He'd be locked up in here until his parents decided he could go home. Maybe he could open the kids mind a little. Toki's brain seemed malleable, he bet he could turn the kid into anything he wanted. That thought kind of scared him. The idea that two people had somehow raised someone to be so compliant. Even his brother, who his parents put up on some kind of pedestal, wouldn't blindly believe anything their parents told him. 

Both Toki and William obviously had a lot of baggage of their own, and Pickles had learned not to get involved in peoples personal problems. Even if he was kind of curious. And maybe he felt bad for them. But he had his own problems and, as far as he could tell, nobody to feel bad for _him_. No, Toki was right the first time. If there was a God, he wasn't looking after them. The only person who was looking out for him was himself and that was the way it would always be. That was who he had to focus on.


	2. Coming Down

Even with trying to conserve it, Pickles was finally at the point where he'd blown through the booze he'd managed to sneak in. He _needed_ it to function, but luckily he had a plan to get more. If Pickles was anything, he was resourceful. All he had to do was score something at school. He knew there was a reason he was still going. Even if it had made him rather unpopular around the house.

"School? You're seriously going to school? _Why_?" Murderface had practically spat. 

"Just says you don'ts feel safes. Whys you wants to be goings?" Toki crinkled his nose, like he was offended by the very notion.

"I can't stay in here forever, dude! I'll go fucking crazy!"

Honestly, the rides to school had increasingly become something he actually looked forward to. Just a peaceful drive with blessed rare silence. Every morning was the same fight;

"You _have t_o eat more than that," Abigail would say.

"I can'ts...So fulls... Can'ts eat no mores..." Toki would whine. His spoon clinking against his cereal bowl as he pushed it away.

"You're not full. You hardly touched it, come on."

"Really ams..."

Pickles had come to learn that as childish and soft-spoken Toki could seem at times, he was surprisingly stubborn. The only way to get Toki to do anything he didn't want to, was to trick him into thinking he did want to. He'd seen Murderface pull it off a few times, but Abigail was evidently yet to figure this out. Pickles couldn't help but wonder if Toki's insistence on being full had something to do with his weird religious upbringing or something. Not that he was going to ask. Murderface though, he couldn't figure out. His best guess was that the kid was just being rebellious for the sake of it. 

"William, come on... Don't do this to me."

"What? I ate!"

"One piece of toast! That's not enough! You've got Toki copying you now."

"Nos. Really ams full...."

"If I don't wanna eat, you can't make me! You can't make me do _anything_! You're not my mom!"

It never ended. It was sort of nice to get away. It wasn't even really a school. Well, it was, but it was just a room in an office building. He couldn't attend his actual high school while he was in the group home. The other kids were all from other group homes, but he didn't really bother talking to any of them. There was one he considered. A cute blonde girl who sat across from him. But he was too pussy. Besides, you can't ask someone out if you aren't allowed out in the first place.

Today though, he was going to talk. He had to... There was this giant dude, appropriately called "Big John" who always seemed fucked up on something or other. He was sure he'd be able to get him something. 

"Hey, dude. Y'know where I can score some shit?" Pickles whispered to the guy during lunch.

"What you need?"

"Anything."

"I got some Cristy I could sell ya'"

Fuck. He hadn't thought this through very well, had he? 

"I don't got no money..."

Big John leaned in a little closer. "Maybe you could... Do me a... Favour for it...."

Pickles bit his lip. "Okay..." He knew exactly what he meant by favour. Sucking dick for drugs was certainly something he'd heard of before, but not anything he'd ever actually done. Or even considered until now. 

"Meet me behind the building after class."

Pickles drummed his fingers nervously against the desk. Had he really just agreed to this? He could just run away. Find a liquor store to rob... But once again, he had no money. And no friends. Where would he go? Sleeping on the street did not exactly sound appealing, and truth be told, he actually kind of liked hanging out with Murderface and Toki. When Murderface wasn't fighting with the staff anyways. No, running away just wasn't worth it.

He struggled through his afternoon classes. A pounding in his head and a sick feeling in his stomach. At 3:30, he stood up slowly. Taking his time putting his supplies into his bag. All he had to do was go into that bathroom, and come out with some meth. He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed out of the makeshift classroom. The bathrooms were at the other end of the hall. He took a step towards them. And then another. And another. And then, he turned around and bolted for the front exit. He just couldn't do it. He was desperate but not that desperate.

Was he just too dignified? No. He was _scared_. Far too scared. Scared to be alone with someone he couldn't take down. Scared to be in a position like that. No. He would have to come up with something else.

When he walked through the front door he was greeted by the sight of Murderface sprawled out in front of the TV. "Where's Toki?" Pickles asked.

"Who cares."

With a shrug he plopped down beside the other. Some bubble-headed blonde was staring back at him through the screen. Unnatural smile plastered across her face. It looked like she was modelling a dress or something. "What the fuck are you _watching_?"

"Miss World pageant."

"_Why_?"

"What do you mean why? 'Bunch a' hot chicks in bikinis and tight dresses and shit."

"I guess..." he shrugged.

"These are the finest ladies in the whole world. They're here in town and I can't even get close to em'."

Pickles snorted. "And if you did? Like, you really think somethin's gonna happen?"

"Ladies happen to find me charming."

"Uh huh. 'Sides, these ladies are old enough to be, like, your mom. You're _a kid_."

"I'm _14_."

"Exactly."

"Oh shit, check out Miss Sweden!"

"Yeah, she's hot. Check out her fucked name though..." Pickles referred to the caption that appeared on screen as she did her twirl. "How d'ya even _say_ that?"

"Serv-etta Skwig-lef? Skwig-elf...?" He did his best to sound out. "Aw, who cares about that."

"Anyways, I need to ask ya' something."

"Well save it for a commercial."

"Fine..."

Pickles tapped his finger impatiently against the arm of the leather couch. He didn't care how attractive these chicks were, this was some grade-A boredom. Like he cared that Miss Canada's favourite ice-cream flavour was birthday cake, or that Miss Argentina had a pet hamster. Time seemed to slow down to a snails pace when he was sober. It sucked. The agonizing tedium clawing at the inside of his skull. 

Finally, after what felt like an hour it cut to commercial.

"Okay, look. I uhh..." he took a quick look around, but didn't see any staff in sight. "I need to get my hands on some booze or something."

"Booze, huh?"

"Yeah. Ya' gotta know where to score some right?"

"Well... Sometimes I sneak out to parties or whatever, ya' can find some there but I kinda need to plan that in advance. Maybe the neighbour kid could get ya' some, I don't know."

"Well, who's he?"

"Kid named uhh... Nathan, I think... I talk to him sometimes, seems pretty cool. Got me these." He opened his vest, revealing a pack of cigarettes tucked in the inner pocket.

"Oh, shit."

"Yeah. Want one?"

"Fuck yeah, dude." It wasn't quite as good as booze, but nicotine was certainly more helpful than nothing. 

"Come on, then." Murderface lead Pickles through the kitchen and out the backdoor. The yard was unkept, patches of dead grass and dirt dotted the lawn. Like the front, it was closed in by a tall chain-link fence. 

Toki was already out there, playing some kind of game that involved tying a skipping rope to the rain spout. 

"Charles is gonna be pissed at you if you rip that off again!" William shouted at him, the screen door slamming behind them.

"Don'ts care!" Toki shouted back.

Murderface shrugged, leading Pickles to a picnic table in the centre of the yard. It was rickety and the wood was rotting away. If it had ever been painted, it wore off long ago. He took a cigarette out for each of them, lighting his own and then passing the lighter to Pickles.

"And we won't get caught?"

"Nah. Fuckin' Edgar workin' today. That lazy piece of shit never notices anything."

"Heys, you guys smokings?" Toki dropped the handles of his lime green skipping rope, drawn to the activity like a moth to a flame.

Pickles took a long drag, allowing the smoke to linger in his lungs for a few moments. His brain finally stopped buzzing. His thoughts slowing down to a reasonable pace. He was starting to feel normal again. The nicotine melting away the stress of the day as it seeped into his body.

"Best is when he works nights," Willy went on. Toki held out his hand expectantly, and Murderface lit a smoke and passed it to him without breaking eye-contact with Pickles. "Falls asleep on the couch. Every time. I slip the keys right off his wrist, and I can go into the office and use the phone."

"Cool. I guess..."

"It is! I can read people's files too. Maybe I'll read yours."

"Files?"

"Yeah. Every kid who comes through here has a file. Filled with juicy gossip."

"Yeah, yeah... Mine's probably just filled with Seth's fucking lies."

"Who's that?"

"My stupid brother! He's the fucking reason I'm in here."

"Oh man, that sucks. You have his phone number? I could prank call him. I'm _really_ good at it."

"Yeah, don't really think that would make me feel better...."

"Pickle, why your brother does thats?"

"I don't know. He's just a douchbag."

"Yeah, just like your parents, Toki."

"Shut ups!"

"Well, it's true! I read your file. Read about all that whacky shit they did to ya'."

"Stop its!"

"I don't know why you defend those assholes."

"They ams my parents!"

"So what? That means you love em' or what? Well, they don't love you..."

He wasn't sure why, but Pickles felt his stomach drop at that. He looked over at Toki, who was still glaring at Murderface. But his bottom lip was quivering, and his face tensed up. Pickles knew what was coming and sure enough, he started crying. Two heavy tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Stop its! Don'ts want to talks about its!"

"I'm just being honest! You think loving parents chain their kids up? Ever see that on TV?"

"_Stops_!" he shrieked.

"Hey, it's okay..." Pickles tried, grabbing the kids arm and lightly pulling him down next to him on the bench.

"Oh, don't baby him like fucking Abigail!" William rolled his eyes. 

"I'm not, jeez. Just stop being hard on him."

"I'm teaching him to be tough! It's a cruel world, Pickles."

"Yeah. Sounds like he's aware of that." The kid nodded at Pickles' words. "What else does William teach ya', huh Toki?"

Toki took another drag. His eyes were still wet and red but his breathing steadied. "Hows to smokes...Hows to swears...Hows to gets out of schools." he answered quietly.

"Yeah? How not to eat....?" he stole a glair at Murderface as he asked.

"Oh God! You _are_ Abigail! I didn't teach him nothing about that!"

"Why nobodies believes I ams fulls?"

"Cause you're all skin and bones, kid." Pickles tried to be as playful with the statement as he could.

Toki just shrugged. "Nots used to eatings that much. Ams hards..."

"And what's _your_ excuse?"

"My excuse is none of your fucking business. i'm never giving you a cigarette again, asshole..."

"Okay..Okay...Cool it, spaz." Pickles finished the last few drags before getting up. He dropped the butt on the grass and put it out with his sneaker.

"You dones hanging outs Pickle?"

"Yeah. Sorry, Toki. I gotta go take a nap..." He wasn't used to people like those two. They were always up and down emotionally. Either one of them could go from happy to crying to angry in a matter of seconds. Maybe he _should_ read their files. Not like he wasn't curious. 'Course, what he was really curious about was his own. One piece of advice he knew he was taking for sure though was, as soon as he could, he'd tell the staff he wasn't going back to school. He didn't feel safe.


	3. File M for Murder

"Not gonna wash your hands?"

Pickles jumped. "Fuck, dude, you scared the shit out of me!" he whispered.

It as the middle of the night and he'd just got up to use the bathroom. And maybe get away from Toki's creepy clown doll.

"Come with me."

"Why?"

"Cause I wanna show you something cool, so stop being a bitch about it."

"Okay, okay. Should I wake up Toki?"

"No way. He'll screw it up. Just come downstairs."

The boys crept down, William pointing out the sleeping figure on the couch. Some guy Pickles had never seen before. Murderface expertly slipped the key from around his wrist as if he'd done it a thousand times before, and lead Pickles to that heavy school looking door he'd later learned was an office.

He carefully closed it behind them once they were inside. "What's so great about this again?" Pickles asked, still speaking in a whisper. 

"It's the only place in the house with a phone. Haven't your friends been wondering where you've been?"

"Well...I mean... I don't really... Have any friends..."

"Well, that's pretty pathetic."

"What? Like _you_ have any?"

"Uhh, Toki?" he pointed out. Pickles rolled his eyes. "Well, what, are you gonna call him?"

"No, stupid. I'm gonna find some booze, or don't you want any now?"

"Yeah, I do..."

"Okay, then." He picked up the plastic yellow phone from the desk and began dialling. Pickles meanwhile, allowed his eyes to explore the room. It wasn't very interesting. It was all just what you'd expect. But one thing did catch his eye. The tall metal filing cabinet in the corner. He remembered William mentioning the files before, and he wanted to find his.

He opened up the middle drawer. Everything was arranged alphabetically, and there was a lot more than he'd expected. This drawer alone was stuffed so full of paperwork, it was difficult to even open. He guessed there were a lot of kids who came in and out of this place. He scanned the names for his own, but had no luck. Though one did jump out at him.

**Murderface, William**

He grabbed it and stuffed it in his waistband, under his shirt. Glancing behind him, it didn't seem his companion was paying attention anyways, as he looked rather engrossed with his phone conversation. 

He closed the middle drawer and moved on to the bottom one, having to crouch down to read the names. No.. He wasn't in here either....

**Wartooth, Toki**

Oh yeah, he'd take that one too, thank you very much.

Try as he might though, he couldn't find his own. He opened up Toki's and thumbed through it. Skimming the words as he went. It was all written with a pen, and the hand-writing wasn't that easy to read.

_...Injuries clearly observable on child's back, arms and legs. Child will not disclose source of injuries. Child appears reserved and timid. Fearful of adults.... Child discloses withholding of food as punishment. _

"Yeah, you sound cute too...." Pickles looked up. Willy was on the ground, back against the desk, idly picking at a scab on his leg.

_Child (Wartooth, Toki age 12) will be held until the state has evaluated parents....._

"No, I don't go to school....Yeah.... Like, anytime....Yeah. I like to party...."

"Who the hell are you talking to?"

"No, I never tried that before."

**"Who are you talking to!?"**

William just glared at him, sticking one finger in his ear. "No...My brother... Yeah, I guess."

Pickles rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the file. Having completely lost his place, he flipped to the next one. Toki's life was fucked up. He couldn't understand it. He was such a sweet kid. What could he ever need to be punished for? He never did anything wrong. As Pickles continued reading he found himself glaring after a while. Some kind of light now shining in his eyes. He looked up. The window. Fuck, how late was it? Or, early rather...

He stuffed the file into his pants next to the other one. Murderface was still blathering on, so he clicked down the phone switch hook with his hand, ending the call.

"Hey!"

"We're gonna get caught, douchbag!"

"I was talking, asshole!"

"I don't care. Look," he pointed at the sun already leaking in through the window. "Who was that anyways?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" Pickles raised an eyebrow.

"I called a singles line."

"Ew, gross...."

"What?"

"Those things are scummy."

"Yeah, well, that's how you get invited to parties, dumbass!"

"I wouldn't party with anyone who goes on a freaking singles hotline," he snickered.

"I was gonna bring you back some beer, but I guess that's not gonna happen."

"We're locked in here."

"Yeah, it's called sneaking out."

"It's called being a douchbag. 'Sides, Nathan brings me beers all the time."

"God, you're such a leech."

Pickles had no comeback. Or maybe he would have if he wasn't so tired.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Pickle! Pickle wakes up..."

Pickles groaned, covering his face with his blanket. The pounding in his head was telling him he was not ready to get up.

"_Pickle_!" Toki whined, trying to shake the red-head awake. 

"...Too early..." Pickles mumbled. It was almost inaudible, and took Toki a moment to process what he had said.

"It ams 4pm..." Toki pouted. "Ands the TVs..."

"Huh?" Pickles squinted, moving the blanket just enough to see a blurry outline of the other boy.

"Gots to see on the TVs. The ladys Moiderface like ams deads."

"Dead...?"

Toki nodded. "Comes."

Pickles rubbed his eyes and slowly peeled himself away from the mattress. He wasn't sure what Toki meant, but he was curious enough to want to find out. Even if he did feel like throwing up.

Murderface was on the couch, eyes glued to the screen when Pickles and Toki plopped down next to him. 

_..."If you're just joining us, tragedy at the Patriot Hotel. Three women found dead in what police are ruling homicides. All three victims are believed to be contestants in the Miss World pageant..."_

"Whoa... That's crazy...." Pickles whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

_"...The first victim has been identified as Anastasia Oxanna, that was at 10:45 this morning. At 3:37 we did get word the second has been identified as Servetta Skwigelf..."_

"Shit... Hey, I'm sorry Murderface."

"Pfft... I don't... I don't care. Just, you know. Pretty nuts."

"Yeah..."

"Wells, my parents be sayings Gods... He gots a plans for everyones...."

"Toki," Pickles started, bringing his feet up on to the couch, "I don't wanna hear you quote your parents ever again."

"Whys nots?"

"Just... Don't...."

"What is this?"

The boys looked over to see Abigail, emerging from the office. At first Pickles thought maybe she'd found some evidence of last nights B&E, but it seemed she was actually referring to the television.

"No, no, no. You boys aren't supposed to be watching violent stuff like this."

"It's the news!" William argued.

"I don't care," she said with finality, grabbing the remote and switching the TV off. "Why don't you all go and do something?"

"What?" Pickles sounded like she'd just said the dumbest thing imaginable. "There aint nothing to _do_ here!"

"Look, I've got a lot to take care of. Just go upstairs and... Play Monopoly."

"Yeah!" But it seemed Toki was the only one excited at the suggestion.

"What do you mean?" Murderface questioned. "Your job is taking care of us! Now, put your shoes on and take us to get some Slurpees!" he demanded.

"Yeah!" Another idea Toki was happy to comply with.

"William, the phone has been ringing off the hook all day. I have shit to do. The cops are talking about dumping another boy here with no warning. Again! So, either go and play with Toki or you all can stand quietly in different corners of the house."

"Or... We could have another riot."

"Yeah!"

"Oh, don't even start with me right now! Besides, that's how you two broke the Nintendo, remember?"

"Oh yeahs...."

"Fine..." Murderface crossed his arms over his chest. "We'll leave Miss Scarlett over here to get her precious work done."

"Well, I _really_ appreciate it." Abigail said sarcastically, flashing him a venom-laced smile. Just as the phone rang yet again.

"Hey Pickle..." Toki said, once Abigail was behind the heavy office door once again. "Yous thinks... Some persons coulds gets in heres and murders us like those ladies whats happens to thems?"

"Oh. No. That aint gonna happen." Pickles assured. Well, not that he could really be 100% but it was highly unlikely. "You're safer here than anywhere else." 

"Hows you be knowings thats?"

"Cause, it's all locked in and stuff."

"Wells, hotels ams lockeds too rights?"

"Well... Okay, Toki, look, just come with me okay?" He lead them back upstairs to he and Toki's shared room. There were a few loose crayons rolling around on the floor. He picked one up and twirled it idly between his fingers. "I'll show you something. This is what the Indian's used to do."

"Umm, I believe they prefer Native American's," William corrected him.

"I'm talking about people from India, douchbag. This is what they used to do, Toki." Okay, he wasn't sure if anyone anywhere at any time ever really did this. But he'd read it in a book once and Toki seemed pretty perceptible to this kind of thing. He knelt down and drew a large circle on the hardwood floor, dipping part of it underneath Toki's bed. "There. That's a magic circle. Go on, step into it." Toki did. "When yer' in there, nothing can hurt ya'."

"Whys?"

"Well, it's magic."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Whats make it magics?"

"Uhh... Well..."

"It just is, Toki!" Murderface butted in. "Do you _want_ to be murdered?"

"Nos."

"Then stay in there! Ah, man Pickles. Great idea. We can put him in there whenever we don't want him bothering us."

"Ugh, that's not why I did it!"

"Moiderface! You ams supposed to beings my friends."

"I am. Jesus! Friends get annoyed by each other sometimes, that's all."

"Look, Toki... The point is, if ya' don't gotta feel scared. Ya' don't gotta worry about those nightmares cause the circle'll protect you." He'd woken him up on more than one occasion, screaming in his sleep. He did understand where Murderface was coming from because it was definitely annoying at first, but after reading his file he couldn't feel anything but sympathy for the kids. 

"Thanks Pickle. But can wes all plays a games now?"

"Yeah, sure." 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing for these characters.
> 
> Sorry if the first chapters not great. It's mostly set-up, but I promise the following chapters will get a lot more interesting.


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